


An Open Palm

by sinemoras09



Series: Amegakure [2]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Angst, F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-08-13
Updated: 2010-08-13
Packaged: 2017-11-13 12:25:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,475
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/503524
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sinemoras09/pseuds/sinemoras09
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Yahiko's death, and everything after. Konan, Nagato. Gen, with vague Yahiko/Konan/Nagato undertones. Spoilers for the Pain arc.</p>
            </blockquote>





	An Open Palm

1.

Days after the last jutsu had been performed, after Yahiko died and Hanzo learned the way of Pain, Konan kneels beside Nagato, her shadow curling against the wall. Slowly, she steeps a washcloth into a basin and wrings out the excess water; she sweeps his hair back, then presses the cloth against his skin.

He should have died. Nagato's face is pale and covered in a thin sheen of sweat. His hands clench and unclench the sheets on his bed, and Konan's jaw tightens. He smells like sweat and sulfur and old dried blood, and she feels him instinctively press his face closer to hers. 

"It's okay," Konan says. "Nagato, you must rest."

Nagato's eyes open, before closing again. Wordlessly, Konan shifts, then moves to change the bandages around his arms. The chakra rods left large weeping holes once pulled out, and Konan carefully dresses the wounds. She spreads a soothing balm over raw skin and feels the cliff of bone at the hollows of his ribs. 

Konan stops. Her throat tightens. She can feel the warmth behind her eyes.

"Konan." Nagato's eyes open again, sickly pale rings shining in the dim light. "Do not worry yourself over me," Nagato says. "Be glad that you are safe."

Konan hunches, her heart in her throat. She grips the washcloth in her hand, tears dripping into the turbid water. 

_Yahiko._ Konan's shoulders shake. The weight of his death settles into her chest, making it hard to breathe. 

" _Konan_." Nagato's voice is sharp. Konan looks up, moonlight falling on her face.

"I will protect you," Nagato says. 

"I know," Konan says. She shakily wipes her eyes.

 

*****

 

She never knew the extent of Nagato's gift: Jiraiya-sensei trained him while she and Yahiko slept. "I want to know!" Yahiko said. 

They were still young, just one year under Jiraiya-sensei's apprenticeship. Konan peeled her eyes from the paper cranes she was folding and frowned. "Sensei said it was for Nagato only," Konan said.

"So? He's our friend! We have the right to know!"

"We'd only get in the way," Konan said. Yahiko groaned.

" _Nagato_ wouldn't care. _Nagato_ would let us watch!"

"Nagato would get embarrassed," Konan said. "And besides, Sensei said we needed our rest." Really, Yahiko didn't know when to let things go. 

Yahiko grabbed her by the arm.

"Yahiko! What--"

"We're going to watch," Yahiko said. He yanked Konan forward.

"Oi!"

They snuck around the mouth of the cave; around them, they could hear the sounds of kunai smashing in the distance. Konan's eyes widened.

In front of them, Jiraiya-sensei took a stance, and Nagato held out his hands. Kunai spun in all directions; Nagato whirled, the weapons scattering around him like leaves. 

They watched; Nagato leapt through flames and threw lightning from his hands; they watched as he flipped and dodged rocks and reshaped the winds. "He's blowing fire and water with the same breath," Yahiko said. His voice was an awestruck whisper. " _Wow_."

A twig snapped. Nagato whirled around. "What...?"

Jiraiya's jutsu slammed Nagato sideways.

"Nagato!" Konan and Yahiko broke into a sprint. Jiraiya rushed forward.

Nagato curled up into himself. His face flushed red.

"Nagato?" Konan stopped.

Nagato was crying. He raised a shaky hand to his face, his hair falling over his eyes.

"Nagato--"

"Go away." Nagato hunched into himself. "Go away. Don't look at me." He cried harder. " _Don't_."

"Okay." Konan touched Yahiko on the arm. "We'll go. We're sorry. Right, Yahiko?"

Yahiko's nodded, dumbly. "Yeah," Yahiko said. Nagato sniffed, miserably.

"Oi, that's enough, Nagato," Jiraiya said. He squatted next to Nagato, patting him on the back. "You did very well today. Believe me."

Konan began to turn, but Yahiko kept staring. Konan glared at him, then yanked him with her. They glanced behind as Jiraiya and Nagato sat on the rocks, Jiraiya's voice bright and cheerful and bobbing like waves.

 

*****

 

"I don't get why you're so embarrassed," Yahiko said.

They were walking along the riverbank; Yahiko was skipping stones while Nagato watched. Konan walked a few paces ahead, watching the horizon. "If I had those eyes, I'd go and show those shinobi who's boss! I'd stop _everything_ , I'd take all their food and give it to people who need it! Right, Nagato?"

Konan turned. Nagato seemed to shrink up into himself. Yahiko gave him an irritated look and yanked him by the shoulder.

"O-oi!" Nagato's head jerked up.

"How are we gonna rule the world with you sulking like a crybaby?" Yahiko said.

"I'm not a crybaby," Nagato said.

"I said _like_ a crybaby. And who cares? You could kick my ass if you wanted to!"

"Yahiko! Stop bothering him," Konan said.

"I just think it's cool, is all," Yahiko muttered.

Later, they hung their clothes out on the line and sat by the fire. Yahiko fell asleep, head back and mouth open, and Nagato reverently paged through Jiraiya-sensei's scrolls. Konan watched as Nagato read, the corners of his mouth tugging into a small smile.

"Is that sensei's?" Konan said. Nagato smiled and nodded. His hair was covering his eyes.

"' _Tales of a Gutsy Ninja,_ '" Konan read. She frowned. "What's it about?"

"A gutsy ninja," Nagato said. Konan stifled a laugh. Nagato tilted his head, puzzled. 

"Konan, what is so funny?"

"Nothing," Konan said. She shifted closer, pressing the tips of her fingers on the page. "Yahiko's right," Konan said, quietly. "I don't understand why you're so embarrassed. Jiraiya-sensei says it's the most powerful dojutsu in the Five Nations."

Nagato lowered his head. His hands dug into his lap. "I killed someone, Konan," Nagato said. "What if I were to kill you both?"

"What?" Konan said.

"On accident, I mean." Nagato hunched, lower. "I can barely control it," Nagato said. "I don't want you to get hurt."

Konan watched Nagato's hands, which were clenched in his lap. Quietly she reached over and covered his knuckles with her palm. 

 

*****

 

2.

One day, Konan woke up bleeding. She bolted upright, pushing past the sleeping bodies of the boys and Jiraiya-sensei and locked herself in the bathroom. 

What was it? She didn't get injured--they hadn't been attacked. There was no way....

There was a soft knock on the door. "Konan? Is everything okay?" Jiraiya's voice was muffled through the door.

"I--" Konan squeezed her eyes. "Sensei I think I'm dying," Konan said.

"Konan?" Yahiko's voice was afraid. "Konan? What's wrong?"

"I'm coming in!" Jiraiya said.

"No, don't!" Konan said.

The door burst, and sensei and her friends spilled into the small bathroom. 

 

*****

 

Yahiko's ears were red. He wouldn't look at her. 

"Well," Jiraiya said, clapping them on the shoulders. "Konan has become a woman! I think it's time to teach the rest of you how to be men!"

"Sensei do we _have_ to?" Yahiko said.

Meanwhile, Konan sat, cheeks flushed and staring at her hands. Her soiled panties were discreetly balled up and hidden in the trash.

"Nagato!" Jiraiya said. "What do you know about the Facts of Life?"

"Wha--?" Nagato jumped. "I--sensei, aren't we too young?"

Later, Yahiko stared suspiciously at Konan's chest. "It doesn't _look_ any different," Yahiko said.

"Yahiko! That's not polite!" Jiraiya said. 

Meanwhile, Nagato sat in the corner, ears flushed and pulling his knees to his chest. Konan sat beside him.

"Does it hurt?" Nagato said, finally. Konan shook her head.

"It cramps, sometimes. But it doesn't hurt," Konan said.

"I'm glad," Nagato said. Meanwhile, Yahiko was pestering sensei for more sex stories. Sensei just laughed and smiled.

 

*****

 

When Yahiko's voice began to change, Konan couldn't stop laughing. "Konan! It isn't _funny_!" Yahiko said, and his voice broke like a little girl's. 

Nagato didn't have an awkward stage, probably because Nagato didn't speak all that much. All Konan remembers is that one day she asked him if they had any more eggs, and Nagato said, "Shall I go to the market?" and his voice was low and sonorous and Konan just stared and stared.

"At least he's not taller than me," Yahiko said, sulking. 

 

*****

 

"Oi, Konan," Yahiko said.

"What?" Konan said. Yahiko fidgeted, then glared.

"Of the two of us, who would you pick? Me or Nagato?" Yahiko said.

"Wh-huh?" Konan blinked. Yahiko crossed his arms.

"Me or Nagato. You have to pick!"

"What are you talking about? I can't pick," Konan said. "And...pick for _what_? For sparring? Then I'd pick you, because I can obviously beat you up."

"Girls are dumb," Yahiko said. He flopped onto the bed and put his hands behind his head.

Later, Konan could overhear them talking: "Hey, I asked!" Yahiko said. "You should just tell her! Stop being a big baby about it..."

Konan had an inkling, but she didn't dare ask. 

 

*****

 

That night, Konan had a dream.

Nagato was crouching in the corner, crying. He hadn't cried for a long time: not since Jiraiya-sensei came. The tears she had come to associate with his awkward boyishness now trickled silently down his cheeks, and Konan knelt beside him, pressing a hand to his shoulder.

Because she meant to comfort him, she began to massage the taut muscles of his shoulders, dipping low to kiss his ear. She swept his hair back, then breathed against the skin of his neck. Her lips grazed the fragile skin, and she flowed upwards to kiss the trail of his tears.

What was this mess of feelings? Duty and love tangled like rope, and Konan didn't understand. She couldn't separate Nagato and Yahiko anymore than she could pull the earth from the moon; she loved them both. At the time, Konan couldn't articulate the fierceness of her devotion, how they were more intimate than lovers. Their suffering was her suffering; their joy was hers as well. 

In her dream, Konan kissed Nagato hard on the mouth, her body crushed against his; she felt his hands roam across her back, and the hot breath on her neck from Yahiko's mouth on her skin. She was sandwiched between them, Nagato in front and Yahiko pressed against her back, twin mouths kissing and groping and needing to be inside her.

When Konan woke, she couldn't look either of them in the eye for days.

"What's wrong?" Yahiko asked, and Konan blushed, furiously. Nagato set down his chopsticks and stared.

 

******

 

3\. 

Yahiko possessed a special talent: when he spoke, people listened. And so it was, years after their sensei left, Yahiko used his special gift to bring in other orphans like themselves; those that could not be convinced need only see the power of Nagato's Rinnegan before coming on-board.

It was raining the night Yahiko began negotiations with Hanzou; she and Nagato sat in their room, which was dark except for the candle flickering against the wall. "Do you think he'll listen?" Konan asked. Nagato shook his head. Even now, years after they first met, Nagato has not changed. She watched as he reflected quietly, the hair falling over his eyes.

"I think of anyone, Yahiko would be the one to make it work," Nagato said, finally. Konan nodded, then looked out the window. Sheets of rain lashed through the trees, which were bent sideways with the wind. 

Konan remembers this moment, how the room was quiet and everything was still. Hope balanced on the knife-edge of Yahiko's dream, and Konan remembers how nervous she was, how the anticipation of it knotted in her chest. She folded and unfolded paper dragons in her lap, fidgeting with her cloak-sleeves, when Nagato touched her arm.

"It will be fine," Nagato said. "Do not worry, Konan."

"Sorry." Konan slid the little paper dragon under her arm. "I'm just nervous," Konan said. "Hanzou is tough. It's hard to believe he even wants to talk to us."

Nagato said nothing, and Konan watched silently as the candlelight broke shadows over his skin. His head was bent, and with her eyes Konan traced the curve of his neck, the way his hair fell softly over his throat. 

"You need to tie your hair back," Konan said, and impulsively she reached over and pulled back Nagato's hair. Nagato looked up; she could see the shock in his eyes. Konan ignored it, and from the pockets of her cloak she pulled out a piece of string. She pulled his hair into a clumsy ponytail, resting at the nape of his neck.

"There," Konan said. "Better."

Nagato reached a hand back; he touched the ponytail uncertainly.

"Thank you," Nagato said. Konan smiled.

The door opened. Yahiko pulled back his hood, which was slick and wet with rain.

Konan and Nagato stood. "Well?" Konan said.

"He wants to meet with us," Yahiko said. "Tomorrow at daybreak. He said he'd give us terms."

"Really?" Konan squealed. She jumped up, throwing her arms around Yahiko's neck. "Yahiko! That's wonderful!"

"Congratulations." Nagato was smiling. 

"Oi. This is _our_ victory, not just mine," Yahiko said. He rummaged through his pack, then pulled out a bottle of sake. He pulled up three small cups and poured. "To all of us," Yahiko said, raising his cup.

"To peace," Konan said, and they each took a drink.

Later, when Hanzou escaped and Nagato staggered barely alive, the only thing Konan could see was how Yahiko's blood swirled out from his body, mixing with mud and rainwater and seeping into the ground.

 

******

 

4.

Night comes, and when it does Konan climbs beside him, curling her body against his spine. She listens for the soft wheeze of his breath, the rise and fall of ribs against her palm. She feels him shift; he's trying to speak.

"What?" Konan leans closer. "Nagato, what is it?"

"I am dying," Nagato says. Konan stiffens. Her fingers grip his arm.

"Where is Yahiko's body?" Nagato says.

"In the next room," Konan says. She glances past him, silently looking at the sliding door. "The rain is too much to bury him, but I can't bear to leave him alone."

"Take me to him," Nagato says. Konan nods, then wordlessly pulls Nagato's thin arm around her shoulders. 

Yahiko's body is covered by a white shroud. She pulls back the sheet; old dried blood flakes off the corner of his mouth.

"Help me," Nagato says, and Konan watches, transfixed, as Nagato begins to pull the heavy chakra rods from the table.

"Nagato. What--"

"I can bring him back," Nagato says. He looks up, and his eyes are spinning, wild. "The Rinnegan is said to possess the power of life and death. I think I'd like to try."

"What are you going to do?" Konan says. She watches as Nagato snaps off a piece of the chakra rod, then fits it into Yahiko's skin.

"I'm going to force my chakra back into him," Nagato says. "Konan. Help me."

Konan nods, then moves to pull the pieces of metal from the table. There is something frightening about the way Nagato moves, skeletal and half-dead on his feet. His skin is stretched taut across those crests of bone, and his lurid eyes shine with an unnatural light.

"Nagato, do not force yourself. Let me do it," Konan says, and she leans him against her shoulder, guiding him to the chair. "Tell me what to do," Konan says. Nagato watches with darkened eyes.

Konan works. She sets her jaw, whittling each piece into the perfect size. Slowly, fear begins to knot at the pit of her stomach, and Konan is suddenly, irrationally afraid. "Nagato. How do I know this won't harm you?"

"You don't," Nagato says. "But you and I both know it's worth a try."

"Yahiko will be angry." Konan speaks as if Yahiko will open his eyes, half-expecting him to sit up and start shouting obscenities at them both. _Dammit, you jerks! What the hell did you think you'd do?_

The first piercing breaks his lip; the second slides through the bridge of his nose. "It needs to be even," Nagato says. "My chakra needs to fill the entire body. It's the only way."

Konan nods, grim-faced. One sharp stake through the joint of his shoulder; another at the ridge of his hip. Konan averts her eyes from Yahiko's nakedness, irrationally remembering Jiraiya's speech about the wonders of puberty. 

"It will be fine, Konan," Nagato says, and his voice is rough like paper.

 

*****

 

There is no regret among slum dogs. Konan remembers this, now.

It was cold the night Jiraiya left, and the three of them huddled together on the sleeping mat, war orphans sitting together for warmth. Konan pressed her face against the space between Nagato's chest and chin, and she felt Yahiko curl up against her shoulder, sniffing softly and gripping her by the waist. Wordlessly, Konan lifted her head and kissed them both: one chaste kiss on Nagato's cheek; two others at the corners of Yahiko's eyes. 

They were children without hope or future; that they were shown something else was indescribably cruel.

 

*****

 

5\. 

Konan can't stop crying. It's Yahiko's voice and Yahiko's face, but everything else about him is foreign. Beside her, Nagato hunches in the corner, the creases in his face deepened with concentration. His eyes are closed; the double-vision from seeing both from his eyes and Yahiko's is at once disorienting and disconcerting, and Nagato has to shut his eyes to keep from throwing up. 

"Konan. I'm sorry," Yahiko says, but it's not Yahiko who's speaking. "I will take these rods out," Yahiko says. "I will destroy them with my own hands."

There are tears in his voice, and Konan can see the tears welling up in Yahiko's eyes. It throws her; the only time Yahiko cried was when Sensei left. Beside her, she can see Nagato's lips move. "I am so ashamed," Yahiko says, and Konan can hear Nagato saying the same thing, as well.

 

*****

 

They leave the body back on the table, the jutsu leaving Nagato drained and Konan too weak to pull off the piercings. She pulls back the shroud, pausing to tenderly brush the hair from Yahiko's face.

There's a sound. A shadow skims past the wall.

Konan looks up. "What was that?" Konan says. Nagato opens his eyes.

The explosion rocks the small hut, and Konan's thrown against the wall. "Konan!" Nagato says. Konan whirls but it's too late, Hanzou's men yank her by the arm.

"Konan!" Nagato says, and Yahiko springs. Konan's eyes widen, and there's nothing but a whirlwind of sound, broken bodies and the crunch of bone.

 

*****

 

"I had to protect you," Nagato says.

Konan breathes hard, clutching her dislocated shoulder. Around her, bodies lay sprawled on the ground. Wordlessly, Yahiko's body crouches, then shoulders Nagato's weight. "We must leave," Yahiko says.

"Nagato--"

"We have no choice." Yahiko's face is pale. "Konan. In this state, I lack the strength to protect you. As painful as this is, this is the only way."

Outside, people are shouting. Konan whirls. "Nagato!"

"We must leave." Yahiko's face is pinched. The piercings flash in the firelight. "Come, Konan. Let's go."

 

******

 

6.

Yahiko had a saying: "If you can use it, don't let it go to waste!" Nagato nodded and Konan rolled her eyes, as Yahiko's packrat tendencies making it difficult for them to move. Konan had frowned when she saw the rusted metal blades and the used old shuriken stuffed in the corners, old scraps of metal siding and discarded bed rolls. 

Now, Konan trudges a few steps behind Yahiko, who is dragging Nagato's body behind him. Her mind still can't wrap around the fact that the man in front of her is _not_ Yahiko, that the shock of orange hair isn't really his. Konan stops, then glares.

"I can protect myself, you know," Konan says.

Nagato-as-Yahiko stops, then turns. The piercings gleam in the murky light.

"I refuse to be a burden," he says. He turns away, his back facing her. "I will call this body 'Tendo.' We must try not to think of this as Yahiko, anymore."

"Nagato, this is crazy!" Konan says. "What do you intend to do?"

"We move forward," he says. His voice is soft. "I am sorry, Konan," he says, and Konan knows she has lost them both.

 

*****

 

7.

The Akatsuki grows. Konan watches as Yahiko's body stands silently in front, chakra rods piercing his skin. "You wish to challenge me?" Nagato says, but it's Yahiko's voice that's speaking. In front of him, Kisame leers and Kakuzu grips his sword, and slowly, Yahiko begins to smile.

Konan doesn't need to watch to know Nagato has dispatched of them without even a blink. The power of the Rinnegan forces them to their knees.

It rains, as it always does. The sky is an irritated shade of charcoal, and around them, the citizens of Amegakure huddle together, umbrellas tucked firmly under their arms as the sheet of rain opens above them. Konan looks out from the precipice of the highest tower, watching the rain and how it sluices against the cool glass, and remembers.


End file.
